


Christmas Tradition

by lamardeuse



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Christmas, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-04
Updated: 2010-12-04
Packaged: 2017-10-13 12:42:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/137481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lamardeuse/pseuds/lamardeuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve and Danny start a new holiday tradition.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas Tradition

**Author's Note:**

> Note: Mild spoilers for episode 112, based on [this picture](http://pics.livejournal.com/lamardeuse/pic/003x4k33).

“You,” Danny said, as soon as the Mercedes carrying his daughter had disappeared around the corner, “are a bad influence.”

In the darkness, Steve's expression was hidden, but Danny could imagine the look of wounded innocence without having to see it. “What are you talking about?”

“I know you encouraged Kono to give Grace those surfing lessons for Christmas,” he said, walking past Steve into the now-empty apartment. He took off the Santa hat and dropped it on the table, then tried to smooth his hair back into place, but it was pretty much hopeless. “Don't even try to lie.”

“Look at it this way,” Steve said, spreading his hands, “she was going to learn to surf sooner or later, probably from some so-called expert hired by Step-Stan. Would you rather your daughter get lessons from somebody like that, or from Kono?”

“That is not the point,” Danny said, but it was a losing argument and they both knew it. Steve smirked, and Danny resisted the urge to push his face in. He figured it was the least he could do considering it was Christmas and all.

“And that gift you gave her,” Danny began, because that was – he still didn't know what that was. “You really didn't have to –”

“Every time I see her, she tells me all about the dolphins, and how she wants to be a dolphin trainer like Barbie,” Steve said, shrugging. “I'm not really good at buying presents for kids, but she made it easy. It was a no-brainer.”

“I know what that place costs,” Danny said, and Steve froze. “What, you didn't think I asked the last time? Three days is bad enough, but a whole week?”

“Sure. You get her for spring break; it makes sense.”

“No, it does not. It does not make sense, because I bought you a tie. A fucking tie, as a _joke_ , and you – Jesus, Steve, that's a lot of money. Too much. I –”

“It doesn't –” Steve cut himself off, bit his lip, continued. “I didn't spend a lot of my pay when I was in the Navy, so I have – uh, kind of a stupid amount saved up. And the mortgage got paid off years ago, and I'd sell the house and give Mary half only she doesn't want it, and – damn it, Danny, I just wanted to do something nice for you and Grace. It doesn't have to – I'm not trying to –”

Danny frowned. “Not trying to what?”

Steve shook himself as though he'd just emerged from the water. “Nothing. It's late, and I – Merry Christmas, okay?”

Danny held Steve's gaze for a long moment, trying to determine what was going on in Steve's head. Considering he was usually mystified by whatever went on in Steve's head at any given moment, and was even less capable of advanced deduction after this much spiked eggnog, it wasn't like he had any luck.

“Well, I'll just –” Steve hooked a thumb toward the door and turned.

Danny closed his eyes briefly. “Yeah, okay. Thank you. Again.” He watched Steve's retreating back for a moment, then looked up.

“Oh, for –” Danny muttered, shaking his head. Steve stopped dead just before the doorway; he'd seen it, too.

“I don't remember that,” Steve said, eying the small sprig of mistletoe like it might leap down and try to karate chop him.

“That's because I didn't put it up there. Shit, it had to be Kono,” Danny sighed. He was sure of it. Chin, Kono and Kamekona had left right before Rachel's car arrived for Grace, headed to a family function.

“How do you know it was Kono?” Steve asked, frowning.

Danny shook his head. “I just know, okay?” He didn't tell Steve she'd been giving them not-so-subtle looks over the past few weeks whenever he and Steve would bitch at one another about police procedure, or bicker over the right way to make coffee, or all the other idiotic crap they did that sometimes felt a lot more like flirting than fighting, even though Danny knew Steve was just one of those guys who liked to pull your pigtails to hear you squawk.

“She probably put it up there for you and Grace,” Steve said, shrugging.

“That's not what mistletoe is for,” Danny said. “Mistletoe is for kissing people you wouldn't otherwise kiss. People you either don't want to kiss, or don't want to admit you want to kiss,” and shit, why was his mouth still going? Must be the eggnog.

Steve's eyes widened for a sec before his features rearranged themselves into the face Danny privately thought of as Commander McGarrett's Stick-Up-His-Ass Face. “Well anyway,” Steve said gruffly, “Merry –”

“What, you're going to go?”

Steve turned around, his face pinched like he was in pain. “Yeah, that's usually the idea when somebody says 'Merry Christmas' and heads for the door.”

“It's just – it's like bad luck, to not –” he waved a hand vaguely at the mistletoe “– you know.”

Steve's face went completely blank. “Is that some kind of weird Jersey Christmas tradition?”

“No, a Jersey Christmas tradition would involve a lot more shouting, and occasionally the flinging of appetizers.”

Steve watched him for a moment, then cocked his head. “So what you're saying is you want me to kiss you.”

“ _I_ don't want you to kiss me, no. But I also don't want to be visited by the ghosts of Christmas past, present and future tonight just because you decided to be a pain in the ass and buck centuries of tradition.”

“I think you've been watching too many holiday classics,” Steve grumbled, but he leaned forward anyway. Before he could think to do anything about it, Steve had kissed him, dry-mouthed and chaste, on the forehead.

Steve pulled back with a look of triumph on his face that was far out of proportion to reality. “There,” he said, as though he'd finished sticking the star on the top of the tree.

“What the hell was that?” Danny demanded. “Was that some kind of crack about my height?”

Steve gaped at him. “What? No! That was a – a kiss!”

“You call _that_ a kiss?”  There was a little voice in Danny's head that was telling him to let it go, but for some reason he didn't want to look at too closely, he was ignoring it. “That was not a kiss, okay? Not even close. That was – I don't even know what that was _._ ”

“So what are you saying?”

“All I'm saying is, something worth doing is worth doing well.”

“Okay, okay, geez,” Steve muttered, like he was the most put-upon guy in the universe. And then he leaned forward and pressed his mouth to Danny's. He pulled away quickly, like Danny was on fire, his spine practically snapping back to attention as he straightened.

“How was that?” he asked, clearly less certain of himself than he'd been a minute ago.

Danny's lips were tingling; he blamed that on the eggnog, too. “You get points this time for location, but zero for style.”

“Style?” Steve spluttered, indignant. “You're grading me on _style_ now?”

“Why the hell not? I'm sure everybody else you kiss does. Or do you always get a free pass because you're pretty?”

Steve gestured at him, a little helplessly. “Yeah, well, it's not like I was _trying_ all that hard.”

Danny bristled at that. “So you're saying I don't deserve any _effort_. Jeez, that's a nice Christmas present right there, finding out the guy you'd take a bullet for can't even spend five seconds to put in a little –”

Danny didn't even realize Steve had moved until his back hit the wall, which was pretty stealth ninja, even for Steve. Steve leaned in, slowly this time, and Danny could feel the puff of warm air against his face, smell the minty scent of Steve's breath. Steve had been sucking on candy canes half the night, and Danny hadn't been able to look at him after a while. This close, he could see Steve's lips were still a bit pink from the dye.

“Okay,” Danny murmured, his voice sounding annoyingly shaky, “okay, this is – uh – not bad.”

“Danno,” Steve whispered, lips brushing Danny's as he spoke, “sometimes I wish you'd just. Shut. Up.”

Danny might've made a noise in response – a noise he preferred to think of as a predatory growl rather than a pathetic, needy groan – and then Steve was kissing him. And wow, yes, this time Steve was getting points for style, he was definitely getting major style points. He started off slow but devastating, sweeping away every one of Danny's defenses in seconds with a determined assault on his lips, nipping and teasing and tasting. And when Danny tilted his head and ran his tongue along Steve's lower lip, Steve moaned and shuddered and suddenly everything was deeper, hotter, _more._

Steve broke away right when Danny was deciding whether he wanted to drag Steve down to his level or just climb him like a fucking tree. “So,” Steve said, panting a little – and who knew he'd find it that hot to know _he'd_ been the one to make Steve breathe hard – “did I get it right that time?”

Danny fisted his hand in Steve's shirt and tugged him closer. “I'll let you know when you get it right,” he murmured.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Danny awoke Christmas morning with Steve's mouth on his dick.

“Well, Merry Christmas to me,” Danny said, reaching down to tangle his fingers in Steve's hair. Steve looked up through his lashes, rolled his eyes and went back down again. Danny's toes curled as Steve did this thing with his tongue that was probably illegal on the mainland, and then he hummed and that was it, Danny was coming in long, sweet pulses, Steve swallowing around him.

Danny flung an arm over his eyes as Steve released his spent cock and rested his head on Danny's thigh. “Christ, please tell me you were doing that for a while before I woke up.”

“I kind of like that you have a hair trigger,” Steve said, crawling his way back up the bed to flop down on his side beside Danny. “It suits you.”

“I do not – you bastard, I'll show you a hair trigger,” Danny said, shoving Steve over onto his back and straddling him. Steve grinned up at him, and then Danny wrapped his hand around Steve's dick and Steve got a new look on his face, one that Danny decided to name later.

When they were lying sweaty and messy afterward, Steve's head heavy on Danny's chest, Steve murmured, “So, is this your idea of a Christmas tradition?” He said it in his usual careless drawl, but Danny knew what he was asking anyway. He was a detective, after all.

Danny's hand came up and settled on Steve's back, fingertips trailing over smooth, warm skin. “I could get used to it,” he admitted.

 


End file.
